The Eternal Fortress (Star Legions Book 6)

by Michael G. Thomas

  The ship shuddered once more and then settled down into a gentle approach. They were now directly in line with the damaged vessels, and in the perfect position in which to strike. The view of the battleship filled the interior of the Carian warship, and Darbabad Forouzandeh could make out every tiny little detail, from the missing gun port hatches, to refuelling lines, and marks where craft had docked in the past. Though they had changed course, there was still the chance to back down. Not until they presented their weapons would it be completely clear that they were about to attack.

  “Good.”

  She rubbed her cheek as she watched the approaching battleship. The other ship distracted her, but a quick glance confirmed it was at maximum range and unable to do anything violent, not yet anyway.

  It is time. I cannot take chances. Let’s see how they react.

  “Shields at maximum. Open our gun ports. Get us...”

  She stopped speaking as a bright white light appeared at the shipyard. The flash was so great that for a few seconds the entire observation system was forced to turn black. As colour returned, she strained her eyes, looking for whatever treachery had been unleashed.

  “Shields failing, brace...”

  The Sarvan’s voice was drowned out by the multiple energy waves slamming into the ship. The first knocked down most of the shields, but the subsequent impacts hit like a hammer, one after the other until the thermal energy struck the bow of the ship.

  “Internal shields to maximum!” Darbabad Forouzandeh shouted.

  Even the Darbabad’s voice failed to reach them as the energy crashed through decks and tore apart a section nearly thirty metres in length. The Sarvan had somehow managed to survive and lifted himself up just as the first fragments of debris from the battleship struck. One large section, a jagged piece of hull the size of a small frigate, hit the broken hull and embedded itself far into the superstructure. The Sarvan vanished along with five other officers in the impact.

  The savages, they have struck, and now we will die.

  Darbabad Forouzandeh looked about for any way out, but entire sections of the ship were tearing apart as chunks of debris struck them in all directions. She had no idea exactly what had hit them, only that Boubak was staggering ahead on borrowed time. She turned her back on her crew and made for the side section of the deck where flashing lights were already marking her way out.

  Goodbye, old friend.

  * * *

  Raider ‘Night Scythe’, The Eternal Fortress, Shattered Systems

  The view from the forward windows was far more impressive than even Xenophon could have hoped. The battleship was gone, and her broken carcass spread out in many directions, all of them now making their way down through the atmosphere. Two of the transports had done the same, but a third had managed to wedge itself against the shipyard, and the subsequent blast sent debris down to a pair of regional patrol ships.

  “This is what hell must be like,” said the pilot.

  He nodded to the burning Imperial battleship that had been on an intercept course. Several sections of the shipyard had impaled her, and hundreds of smaller pieces had penetrated her shields, leaving her little more than a hulk. A second vessel, a mercenary troop transport of an unknown design was in two large sections, both of which were mingled in with the wreckage of the vast shipyard.

  “Debris, four-three and zero-nine,” said Tamara.

  “I’m on it,” laughed the pilot.

  There was no humour, though; it was all nerves, and the pilot’s arms were shaking from his exertions. They appeared to be travelling upside down, the planet above them, and the hellish scene of fire, debris, broken ships, and hundred of bodies in all other directions. Xenophon looked back down to those inside, each strapped in and waiting for the inevitable.

  “Two of their ships down, plus the Boubak, and the shipyard is in ruins.”

  He was once again at the top of the steps and looking out into the cockpit. The flashing lights from the continuous explosions filled the front of the craft and put him in silhouette to the rest of them.

  “Can you get us down in one piece?” he asked.

  The pilot was staring so intently out through the screen that he was unable to tear his one eye from the view.

  “Oh, we’re going down all right. The last blast sent us down at a higher than expected speed. Unless I can change course, we’ll be entering the upper atmosphere in minutes.”

  The man was shaking from the vibrations.

  “Get yourself strapped in, Dukas. This is going to get rough. I give us a fifty-fifty chance of making it down in one piece.”

  Xenophon asked no further questions and rushed out of the cockpit doorway and down into the crew area. Tamara watched him go and then double-checked her own straps that pinned her in tightly behind the gunnery controls.

  “This is going to get crazy!” she said excitedly.

  “No, that’s not good,” said the pilot.

  He pulled on the control column, and they spun about, narrowly avoiding a drifting engine that could easily have wiped them out. He tapped a button, and a secondary screen changed the view to that of the planet. Coloured markers showed a build-up of energy, one that he had never seen before.

  “The weapon, I think it’s about to fire.”

  There was no time to give a warning. Even if he had, he didn’t know whom to actually warn. Even as the powerful energy beam rose up from the planet’s surface, the final target was still unknown. He looked to the right and then again to his left, watching as multiple small craft emerged from the myriad of hangar doors and exit points.

  “Get out, you fools, hurry!”

  The energy beam struck the ship and stayed there, as though it was in reality a long tube connecting the ship back down to the surface. Pulses ran up from the planet, and when the first one hit, the ship exploded.

  “Gods!” yelled the pilot.

  Unlike the weapons they had fitted to their fire ships, the energy blast exploded the ship from within, sending every part of the vessel out in different directions. Hundreds of tiny fragments blasted past the raider.

  “Clear me a path!”

  “On it,” answered Tamara.

  The craft shuddered from repeated small impacts and then from the rattle of gunfire. Tamara took aim at any large sections in the vicinity and shredded them with the quadruple cannon mount.

  “Got one, got two. Yeah, and another!”

  The pilot nearly panicked and yanked the control column to one side, simultaneously striking at the seal button. Metal shutters folded down, but they were too slow for him.

  “Hold on!”

  The right side of the glass window ripped out, and shards of hardened metal pounded through the breach before the shutters finished closing. Tamara looked to her right and then looked away, doing her best to cast out the image of the headless corpse in the pilot’s seat. She had little choice though because the raider had slipped down into the planet’s atmosphere and was beginning a deadly death roll.

  “Tamara, what the hell is going on up there?” Xenophon shouted.

  She struggled with her straps, but the forces operating on her body were so great she was now being physically held in her seat.

  “Pilot’s gone. We’ve lost engine power. We’re going down!”

  * * *

  Bactrian Grand Battleship ‘Aegospotami’, Shattered Systems

  Lady Artemas marched into the Royal Chamber with her head held high and a pair of Night Blades at her flanks. They were chosen warriors, selected by her after trials run by Glaucon during the long wait with the convoy. Now they were far from the Phyrigian convoy, and the safety and security that large number of armed ships had offered. Roxana rose from her seat, an object that she continued to find a little odd.

  “Lady Artemas, it is good to see you. We have received word from Kallinos. The operation is underway and the count is on.”

  Artemas swallowed uncomfortably as she approached.

  “Komes D
evereux. That is good news.”

  Roxana didn’t seem as impressed at the news. She pointed to the beautiful view she now had of the fleet all around them. The Titans, as always were the most prominent, but there were scores of other vessels, and each full of food, ammunition, and fuel.

  “Not entirely.”

  She walked to the pair of screens in front of Dekarchos Leontius, her tactical officer.

  “Look here.”

  The image showed the Median fortress, along with a number of ships. Flashes and noise distorted a third of the image.

  “What is happening?”

  Roxana shrugged.

  “That is the problem. Kallinos said the operation was a go, and then the planetary weapon opened fire. We lost a transport in a single shot, just as Cassandra described.”

  “What of Xenophon?”

  Roxana pointed to the centre of the flashing area.

  “Last contact from his ship was that the raider and the other dromons were riding the wave of debris down through the atmosphere. If they make it, we should be seeing results in the next twenty minutes.”

  Artemas took a step back and then looked about, as though she might be able to do something from the very ship she was standing on.

  “We have to go. We have to help them.”

  Roxana shook her head.

  “No, we cannot.”

  She then tapped the tactical officer on the shoulder.

  “Tell her what you just told me.”

  * * *

  Raider ‘Night Scythe’, The Eternal Fortress, Shattered Systems

  The rate of spin had increased exponentially as the craft fell closer and closer to the surface. All around the raider moved chunks of smashed ship, broken shipyard, and dromons. Some were intact; others were smashed wrecks, already torn apart by impacts. As the craft spun about, the weaker or already broken external elements, such as gun mounts and antenna quickly ripped off. Tamara grabbed the cover to her side and pulled hard while the g-forces smashed her about. She never knew how she did it, but finally the panel pulled off and exposed a u-shaped handle. A twist and pull activated secondary controls. A broken display popped up, along with a set of manual controls connected directly to the hydraulics. There was little room to reach them from behind the gun controls, but with great effort, she managed to get one arm through the maze of metal.

  “Got...got to stop this.”

  A quick push on the yoke did nothing, and she was forced to push down hard, rubbing her arm along sharp pieces of metal. The pain was intense, but the immediate reward was that the raider started to slow its spin. Another quick push and the sick feeling in her skull began to fade.

  More like it.

  Something struck the craft, and the impact pushed her back against the gun mounting. Something punctured her skin and sent sharp stabbing pains through her body. Incredibly, the raider had stopped spinning, though, and that gave her a moment to try and calm down. Her vision kept fading in and out, and she was too exhausted to work out what was from tiredness, injury, or the confusion of falling from the sky.

  Need help.

  She lifted herself from the broken gunnery position, and the pain hit her again. She dropped to her knees and blacked out for a second. When she opened her eyes, colours flickered about her face, and then she vomited.

  Move it!

  There was no better taskmaster than herself. Tamara dragged herself up from the ground and made for the bulkhead door leading back into to the raider. The vessel was clearly still dropping at high speeds towards the surface, and now completely lacking any kind of control with her gone. She staggered out of the cockpit, her amour beginning to smoke from the heat. Her left arm was blistered and burnt at any point missing armour, but in her dazed state she hadn’t even noticed that.

  “Tamara, what’s going on?”

  She looked at the large group of soldiers, each strapped in and waiting for the next phase of the operation.

  “Pilot’s dead, controls gone. We’re going down, and fast!”

  Xenophon strained to look back at Glaucon.

  “We need to get out of here.”

  Glaucon nodded in agreement and turned back to Tamara.

  “What about the rest of the assault team?”

  Tamara shook her head, and both Xenophon and Glaucon recoiled in the horror of what must have happened. Many of the warriors that had come with the assault team were close friends, and both had at the very least met them all. The thought of losing any of them was terrible enough, but a large number before they were even in combat was just too much.

  “All of them?”

  She showed little emotion as she continued.

  “A quarter must have gone in the explosion. The rest are falling through the atmosphere. I tried to take control, but I keep...”

  She stepped down, and then lost control, immediately losing her footing and falling forwards. Theras, though further back in the craft, had already released his clamps and rushed to her. He was too late but was able to help her back to her feet. When he removed his hand, he found blood from a hidden wound at her upper back, perhaps near the shoulder blades.

  “The gun system, it is hitting the bigger craft. Two dromons are already gone.”

  With that, Xenophon was out of his seat and pulling opening a container fitted to the wall. Inside was a portable evacuation kit, a small suit with an integral parachute unit. He looked to Theras.

  “Get her suited up. We are out of here.”

  He then climbed the short steps to the cockpit, looked inside, and back to the others.

  “We are going to hit them, and hard. Get ready for the jump on my mark.”

  Glaucon checked on Tamara before moving up to the entrance of cockpit. Xenophon was already inside and pulling away the body of the broken pilot. Blood covered the interior, and half the controls were smashed. Amazingly, the hydraulic backup to the avionics system seemed to be functional, even if most of the rest was shattered.

  “What are you doing?”

  The raider shook violently, and Xenophon pulled on the controls with all of his strength.

  “The starboard stabilizers are gone. If I let go, we’ll go back into a spin.”

  Glaucon grabbed his friend and began to pull him away.

  “You’re not going down with this bird, not on my watch!”

  Xenophon refused to move and reached ahead and struck the window shutters. The metal plate opened up, revealing the shattered cockpit windows. Air screamed inside, but at least it was now possible to see where they were going.

  “Air speed down to four-twenty and dropping,” Xenophon shouted.

  Glaucon staggered back towards the small doorway. He looked inside and checked the others were ready. He could see each of them in their drop suits, all of them ready for battle. Even Tamara was in her emergency gear.

  “Look, the gunnery system.”

  Glaucon turned around and struggled to see through the broken glass. He could see the fortified structures lifting up from the ground, and more importantly, a great barrage of gunfire from smaller turrets. They were coming in from the side, now almost level with the ground, and at least ten kilometres from the ground.

  “They definitely know we’re coming in.”

  The raider rotated around, narrowly missing a deadly shrapnel airburst that could easily have torn off half the superstructure. He glanced back to Glaucon.

  “I’m not planning on dying here. Get back with others. When I give the signal, jump.”

  “And you?”

  Xenophon had both of his hands on the controls, and they were shaking from the force required to keep the craft level. He was able to nod to the windows.

  “Look. We’re too far away from the gun system to hurt anything more than the pyramid structure. There’s no propulsion, and we’re going to crash down on the outside of the inner defence wall.”

  “And?” Glaucon said impatiently.

  Xenophon lifted one hand, just for a second.
<
br />   “I will use the micro atomics on the inner wall, right where those towers are. We will land as close as possible, regroup, and fight through the breach. Hit anything you can. We have to get the gun offline so the fleet can jump in.”

  Glaucon tapped him on the shoulder.

  “Good luck, don’t wait too long.”

  * * *

  The Eternal Fortress, Imperial Border, Shattered Domains

  Ariaeus watched from his position on the shield wall. He had moved to the large keep structure, along with a handful of his new bodyguard. He had selected the Northern tower, one of the largest and most prominent on the wall to also house his troops, most of whom were stationed inside the long-abandoned ammunition storage halls. A short distance away was the base of the gun pyramid, and every thirty seconds it fired without fail. From this far down, he could not make out the targets, but there was always a flash somewhere in space, a flash that marked where yet another ship or piece of flotsam had been vaporised.

  Pathetic. Is this the best they have to offer?

  Ariaeus hadn’t even bothered to issue orders for his troops to prepare for battle, and he’d ordered no more than twenty to the tops of the towers. From there, they had placed a mixture of guns on simple pintle mounts. Around him were the commanders for the mercenaries and the Taochi, as well as the vertical tactical board that showed him the military dispositions in every direction for five kilometres.

  “Lord Ariaeus,” said a familiar voice.

  He looked to his right at the large blast door that led back inside the keep. A warrior entered with rough-looking clothing and body armour. His hair was unkempt, and the dark skin marked and scarred from a hundred battles.

  “Ah, Bijan, the infamous Hooshang Brother. Is it true you lost your battleship in Hayastan?”

  The mercenary lowered his head, giving the impression of shame, or perhaps to disguise whatever he was feeling at that very moment.

  “We were betrayed by the incompetence of Tirbazus, my Lord. Our ships were being resupplied with the Hayastani reserves when the Terrans attacked. They were like animals. We lost many ships.”